The Blondi

I live in Bondi, Australia and I Mr Darwin can lay claim to having identified a new species. A species that through the years of evolution has become a supreme being on the beaches and streets of this strange town. She is called a Blondi. She is tall and long legged. She normally is blond haired [often dyed] but can come in a variety of colours and styles. She does not work at all and all food, drink and designer bags are bought and brought to her greedy table by her bald, paunchy, middle aged mate [ note:mate as in Animal Kingdom mate .i.e. who is shagging them. Not mate as in who you go shopping with]. She's evolved to believe all she ever has to do is apply make-up, drive her mate's porsche and purr over cappuccinos, chatterring with her fellow Bondi Blondis. Her skin is perpetually super-tanned. A result of endless hours cooking like kebab meat, legs spread, in the sizzle of the sun. She regularly covers itself in multi- coloured Kaftans or wiggles on the beach in itsy-bitsy, yellow, polka dot, half-a-bikinis. She has no idea about anything but doesn't profess to care. 'Isn't Hillary a new shade of lipstick Darlink.' She has no use in society except to provide for a lower species on her own self-made social scale - the beauty therapist, a creature that is paid to remove the Blondi's own scales. The Blondi preens and postures non-stop. She often exhibits a strange runny nose while out at nighttime socialising with other members of her tribe. But she ages quickly. If not married off it by her early thirties the Blondi becomes irritable and visually disintegrates at an increasing rate of knots. Her skin wrinkles and curls. Her lips start thinning and take on a permanent sneer more often than not with a dangling cigarette attached. Her clothes stay young, while her body flesh hangs and flops. She is at its best for only five summers before the sun starts to take its toll. She has no career to fall back on. The Blondi's friends desert her unless they too are still single.Then they trawl the bars in packs looking for increasingly younger meat. But suffering increasing failures in her relentless pursuit of a new rich mate, the ageing Blondi eventually ends up with an even fatter mate. A male who owns a restaurant, dresses in black turtle necks, that don't hide his turtle shell stomach, drives a faster penis and improves the Viagra share price fortnightly. Unfortunately nature is cruel to Blondi's and her mates always leave her for a much younger Blondi.
'The Survival of those that look as fit as a butcher's dog' is a theory that does apply to the countless Blondi's who roam the soft sands of Bondi beach, but thankfully it only lasts until Mother Nature gives her super tanned daughters a strong slap on the wrist to remind them of their true age.